The Rec 2 Rec Octagon

The Rec 2 Rec Octagon I used to be an agency recruiter. I met my budgets and enjoyed the odd bonus as well as the big  nights out. I truly enjoyed the feeling that we were all in a trench together. I remember silly hat  sales days, the compulsory ‘take a buddy’ client visits and of course, the dress code. I’ve learned to  spot an agent at a glance as well; black A4 folder (the juniors usually carry these versions), suit,  haunted gaze, ridiculously well-polished shoes. The odd thing is that I’ve seen this multiple times no  matter which country I’m in. It may be a blazing 40 degree day in Singapore, but you’ll still see them  emerge from buildings and walk in sync to a waiting taxi. Expectation I didn’t plan to take this route in my career. I’d read about headhunters in fortune magazine during  my years at university and the thought of being the silent guide in people’s careers appealed. I  imagined a phone that would ring from a global CEO asking my opinion on talent in the market,  whereupon I would dispense my knowledge and expertise leaving him enraptured by my contacts and insight into human beings. The transaction would be swift and efficient. A call here and there; a  handshake; a contract. I would then send off a ridiculously high priced invoice personally signed  with a witty and personal note appealing to their interests. Something like ‘Talent is fleeting, so  keep cycling â€" Sincerely, your talent partner’. Reality Reality was a bit of a slap to the face, particularly in the industrial sector. In my first week at a global  branded consultancy, I was verbally abused and had a wrench thrown at me across a workshop  floor. I reacted like a cat and rolled to my right. Had the IPhone been invented it would have likely  hit 100,000 views on youtube. The sector is also usually also a family affair so you’re never just  dealing with the candidate. I learned to ignore the derisive looks I’d get from the banking and  financial consultants when I arrived in reception to find polished candidates having to patiently wait  standing because every seat was taken by the family of a tradesman. If you can survive in the  industrial space, you’ll do well anywhere. You learned to think fast, field weekend calls from a range  of people in tears because they don’t have money and need an extra shift. You learned to carry  around files to dinner parties with lists of available candidates because laptops and database access  were a new concept. It was also unforgiving when you made a mistake. Workshop floor managers  are no strangers to a ‘tough’ conversation, so your skin quickly grew thick enough to take the blows. The professional space presented its own challenges. Things such ‘your word’ and a handshake  mattered in the industrial sector, but to a wily financial controller you needed more. They knew the  game and knew precisely how to play you to get what they wanted. I’ve spent many countless hours  negotiating with candidates and once even drove through a rush-hour in London to meet a  candidate in pouring rain to convince them that this life choice was the best thing for them, only to  have the client pull the job the next day as they’d filled it internally. Oh, the heartache. Turning tables I truly  despised the sales calls. I now know what I would have sounded like and it makes me cringe but also  respect those rare, wonderful human beings that can get it right. Currently, as the go-to person for  recruitment across our region in a global corporate, I am used to receiving at least 4 agency sales  calls a day and through silence have managed to reduce that to around 1 per fortnight. Having  known what it feels like on the ‘other side’, I am polite but firm. Recently, consultant X presented  his case, side-stepped my initial rejection with ease and thrust his sales pitch at me. I paused and  realised that I was enjoying the call. We were fundamentally both recruiters and for the first time in a  while a sense of camaraderie emerged. It dawned on me afterwards that this feeling was all-to-  often fleeting and weighed down by terms and conditions, ill-perceived intentions and the battle  for recognition from the hiring manager. The golden ticket The golden ticket in agency recruitment is access to the decision maker. If you can build their trust  quickly, you’ve set the groundwork for what can often be multi-year lucrative relationship. Not that  its all about money. It’s the fulfilling sense of a job well done. Or is it? Regardless, the reason  relationships likely fail in this space is simply due to unnecessary and often overlapping priorities.  On one hand, the passionate corporate recruiter wants to see a role filled by the right person with  the right skill set within a defined period of time that meets his or her service level agreements and  if at all possible, a well done from the hiring manager. On the other side, the typical permanent and  temporary contingency agency recruiter is faced with a budget to achieve to sustain their salary, a  directive and sometimes will to work long hours, impossible roles to fill in short timeframes and  competing priorities from the range of other customers they dare not let dow n. All of this (and much  more) leads us merrily back to where I hung up the phone with a defined meeting time set aside  with consultant X. He appeared on time in reception. A great start. I received the call from our receptionist who is  adept at picking odd visitors and mentioned that there were three well presented individuals in  reception. “Three?”, I asked. “Yes three”, she replied. This was irritating because I knew precisely where this was headed. I would talk with Consultant X, be interrupted by Consultant Y who would  work with Consultant Z to head off any progress outside of Consultant X’s scope, which is what  happened. Consultant X’s handshake lingered a touch longer than it should have and I sensed from  his apologetic smile that he had very little input into who joined him. Disaster The conversation went  predictably bad. They spoke over each other and I offered a wan smile watching the branches of a  large tree through the window move with the wind. I briefly pictured myself leaping through the  window swinging gracefully through the branches and landing on the street below. What a story for  the office it would have been for them. I outsourced the single role my budget could handle this  quarter and reiterated the importance of it. Was I certain that there was nothing in the admin space for Consultant Y? Yes. What about Engineering for Consultant Z? No, nothing; lovely to meet you.  Watch yourself crossing the road; the end. To describe at length the angst that followed would be waste of your time, so I’ll skip to the juicy  parts. Consultant X worked hard. Profiles were provided within 3 days meeting his own defined  timeline. I reviewed and passed them on to the hiring manager. In the meantime, I beavered away  at my own portfolio. Sarah, the hiring manager went on leave. Consultant X called me requesting  feedback. Sarah returned from leave and realised that she may actually be able to develop someone  in her team for the role. I of course, calmly reminded her that the role was open for 6 weeks before  we engaged an agency. Sarah said  she understood  and promised to review the candidates. Too late Consultant X called and emailed,  and called again reminding me of the criticality of securing the  candidates. Sarah eventually obliged after all candidates were printed out and taped to her  computer monitor. Its worth noting at this juncture that having achieved managerial status at the  organisation, Sarah was supposedly a ‘professional’. This again should have implied  competence, however we  all know that this is rare. Consultant X started calling me after hours. He had lost one of the  candidates. There was an edge to his voice that I couldnt  mistake. He wished me all the best (dead)  with my meeting with Sarah tomorrow to lock in times. Sarah finally confirmed interview times,  missed the first interview and arrived late for the second. Her performance was  noted and passed on  to her leader who shrugged and asked me why we haven’t hired that person in her team yet? No  wonder she was  stressed. Mutual frustration A small part of my brain had collapsed by this point, and I thanked him for the feedback followed  by a suggestion that she should make  more of an effort. The moment however, had passed.  The relationship between Consultant X and I was doomed from the start and not because of what  you may think was just another ‘agency’ issue. It was ours. Without control and trust from the hiring  manager, talent acquisition was disregarded and not given priority. Without an internal champion,  Consultant X was never going to have his case pushed to the point of a hire opening the door to the  decision maker. Truth be told, for this to have worked I needed to get out of the way and merely  facilitate the meeting with the hiring manager and not attempt to take on the role of ‘hiring  manager’. Mutual benefits Yet despite all these lessons, corporate recruiters repeatedly make the same errors.  Despite claims that agencies were going to collapse a decade ago from the growth of internal  recruitment functions and increase in sourcing competencies, they are still going strong, which is evidence enough that they still have value. All good recruitment strategies incorporate suppliers.  Portion off the work you know your team will struggle with delivering on, and ensure that relationships are in place with hiring managers prior to them needing to be engaged. Ultimately, your business will win  from the arrangement. Ideally a  partnership will form within that  pseudo no-man’s land between  external and internal recruiters. Author: The ‘Acquirer’ â€"  No small dose of healthy HR skepticism. A career in Talent Acquisition leadership in global companies from the heat of the Asia Pacific to the crisp air of Europe.   Pragmatic, strategic, and every now and again… serious. 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